A Christmas Night Poem

If I awoke in the midst of Christmas Night, 

And much to my alarm and surely to my fright,

I saw a fat man, with milk, dripping from his beard, 

I'd know in a moment, 

This man's to be feared!

I'd run for my life, and lock up a door, 

He may be a saint, delivering toys to the poor,

But I have no doubt, in my frame of mind,

This man is not here, to  be very kind!

Maybe I'm sensible or full of distrust, 

Yet I have a feeling , this man, we should bust! 

If he slid down my chimney from the North Pole,

Well he'd have to be skinnier to get through that hole!